Ice and Fire, Venom and Valor
by YouAreInAComaWakeUp
Summary: Come closer, take a seat by the fire, and I shall tell you a story. Today's tale will not be of a valiant knight saving a beautiful princess from a ferocious monster, but of a thief, with the help of a golem, saving a monster from something far, far more frightening.
1. Nothing is Sacred

**Chapter 1**

_Nothing is Sacred_

The fire. Everyone accepted it was there, but no one knew what it was. To the more scientific minds, it was simply some strange volcanic activity on flat land. Others said it was the wrath of a god. Some believed the ground where the fire appeared to be the home of the Ankou, and the fire was a phenomenon that occurred when he traveled to and from his place of residence. To most, it was simply a pillar of flame that rose into the sky at random, unquestioned. However, there was one thing that everyone agreed upon, one truth that no one dared deny. The site of the flames was dangerous. A place to be avoided. No one got close.

Which was why that was exactly where Roxas was headed.

His pursuers had long since lost interest, most likely upon realizing where he was going. For that, at least, Roxas was grateful. Despite the pain from the arrow in his shoulder, dying was no longer an _immediate_ risk. However, this gave him a new dilemma. Now that he had been chased away from his brother, he had nowhere to stay, and the sun was already setting on that cloudy day. The longer he stayed in the shadow of the trees, the more intimidating they seemed, clawing up at the dark gray sky as they were. Without shelter, he would die from the cold, and without medical attention, he would eventually fall victim to his wound. Though he was tired, he had no choice but to keep walking, stumbling between the white oaks and hard maples that surrounded him, leaning against them on occasion to keep himself upright.

Just after the sun had completely disappeared from the forest, Roxas allowed himself to fall to the forest floor, just long enough to catch his breath. He reached up for his shoulder, wincing at the slick texture of the blood that had soaked into his clothes. His own blood. He might have been considered naive at times, a trait that he and his brother shared, but he knew better than to take the arrow from his shoulder. At the moment, it was all he had to keep his wound closed. Still, it was not an easy burden to carry with him through the forest. It ached, it itched, and it left Roxas in a state of malaise. His left hand reached for the shaft. If he removed it, he would more than likely die, but it was already unlikely for him to make it out of the forest alive. Perhaps it would be in his best interest if he were to remove it. After all, if he was going to die regardless, why not leave the world with a little less discomfort?

Roxas snapped the point from the arrow, but before he could remove the rest, he caught a scent.

"Smoke?" The boy grunted softly as he returned to his feet. He did smell smoke. That could mean one of two things. Either the pillar of fire was soon to claim him, or someone was nearby, someone with a campfire, or perhaps even a house. Roxas supposed it could have been the home of the Ankou, but even if it were, he was bound to see the Ankou soon enough, whether he left or not. At least if he sought the source of the aroma, he had a chance.

Roxas pushed past the vegetation of the forest, struggling to locate the fire through a fuzzy head and a stuffed nose, courtesy of the cold, autumn weather. He leaned on every tree he passed; It was getting more difficult to walk with every step. Roxas almost chalked the smell up to his imagination, a result of his wishful thinking and his weakened senses, but then he saw it. A light through the trees. A light flickering from what seemed to be a window.

Swallowing hard, Roxas pushed himself further, fresh determination carrying his bones. The trees dissipated the closer he grew to the fluttering firelight, and Roxas began to wonder, yet again, whether he was imagining things. Just ahead of him, past the remainder of the trees, in the center of a clearing, stood the most lavish house Roxas had ever laid eyes on. In truth, it seemed closer to a castle than the cabin he'd been expecting. The residents were bound to be wealthy. If Roxas knew anything about the wealthy, it was that they weren't the most generous of people. If they were, after all, they wouldn't be wealthy, would they? Still, there was no alternative. Roxas had to take the chance.

He dragged himself to the front door and knocked, the sound muffled from the weight of his body against the mahogany. "Hey!" he called out with as much power as he could muster, which wasn't very much at all. "I need help!" Roxas waited. He waited for a full minute. Then he pulled himself away from the door, leaned against the door frame, and tried knocking again. The sound was a little louder this time, but not by much. "_Hey!_" shouted Roxas, trying a second time. Again, there was no response. Perhaps there was no one home. Perhaps whoever owned the house had left to hunt. Perhaps the owners were upstairs, too far away from the door to hear the knocking. Perhaps if he just walked in and explained himself...

Roxas tried the doorknob.

It was locked.

The boy clenched his teeth. At this point, he had a decision to make. Either wait outside and see whether someone would notice him, or perform the very act that got him chased away from his home in the first place.

With his life on the line, Roxas chose the latter.

He grasped the doorknob firmly with his right hand. It glinted briefly, as if reflecting sunlight that wasn't there. Again, Roxas tried the doorknob, but this time, it obeyed him. The door opened effortlessly and Roxas stepped inside, turning only to close the door behind him. He shivered. It was warm. For the first time since that morning, Roxas had encountered warmth. His dizziness seemed to leave him, if only just barely. He turned back around to face the grand room he had walked into, and all the warmth that had found him immediately left.

From the top of the staircase gleamed a pair of intimidating, golden eyes. The face around them was firmly set in an expression that vaguely reminded Roxas of the look his mother had given him when he returned home late. Not necessarily angry, but impatiently awaiting an explanation. The man who owned that expression bore olive skin and a hair color that Roxas had never before seen on anyone but his brother's best friend. Not gray, like the elderly, but a gleaming silver. It caught the light of the flaming chandelier overhead, casting a faint glow on his own neck. He was in fine dress. Not regal, perhaps, but just a few rungs below it on the social ladder. A black waistcoat adorned with ruby buttons emphasized his lean physique just as the white sleeves of the silk shirt beneath did the same for the size of his arms. Black trousers below disappeared into black boots that reached his knees.

"Good evening," said the man, his smooth, deep voice snapping Roxas out of his stunned response.

The boy closed the mouth he hadn't realized he'd opened and tried to formulate an intelligent-sounding answer. "I came from outside." That was not it. "I mean... It's cold, and I needed a place to stay, so... I mean, I tried knocking-"

"You seem to be injured," the stranger pointed out.

Roxas looked down at his shoulder, and he looked back up to nod.

"Come," said the man.

Roxas had no choice but to agree.

"Have a seat," the man said patiently, gesturing to a pink chair in front of the fireplace.

Roxas did as he was told and settled into the cushion. He almost leaned back, but the end of the arrow reminded him how poor of an idea that was when it collided with the back of the chair. Roxas winced and reached for his shoulder, gripping it tightly.

"I would recommend letting go," advised the stranger as he reached into a cabinet. "You won't be doing yourself any good to grind the arrow into your wound."

Again, Roxas did as he was told. He watched curiously as the man withdrew several shredded linens from the cabinet. The largest of the cloths was chosen, and the man turned to leave the room, explaining that he would return shortly. When he did, it was with a brass basin of water. He set it on a table beside the chair Roxas was sitting in and reached for Roxas' shoulder. Without warning, he yanked the arrow free.

Roxas yelped and leaned forward, away from the owner of the house. The owner reached up with the same hand as before and yanked the boy back down into place. He reached for the hole that had been made in Roxas' shirt and ripped it open wider.

"Hey!" protested the blond. The man ignored him and reached into his basin, pulling from it the large cloth that he'd walked away with before and pressed it to Roxas' wound. The pain that came with it was sharp, but the water was warm. Roxas closed his eyes and clenched his teeth to brace himself against the pain.

"What is your name?" asked the man, his voice calm and quiet.

"Roxas," hissed the boy through his teeth.

"And your family name?"

Roxas didn't answer. Most likely, this man would try to return Roxas to his brother, and the last thing Roxas wanted was for Sora to get in trouble because of him.

"Very well." Judging by the splash, the man dropped his cloth into the water. "My name is Xemnas. I assume by your wound and your hesitation to present details about yourself that you have been trying to escape from something. The consequences of thievery, perhaps?"

Roxas opened his eyes and turned to look at Xemnas properly. "Why-" Roxas hissed as he was turned back around. The hand on his bare shoulder was absolutely freezing.

"I am absolutely certain that the front door was locked when you arrived," explained Xemnas. "To be able to open the door so easily, you must carry a useful skill."

The color drained from Roxas' face. "Yeah, I'm...pretty good at picking locks, I guess."

"Hm..." The man craned his head down to look at the basin and he lifted the cloth again to continue cleaning Roxas' wound, earning another pained hiss. "And I assume, if you have been running, that you have nowhere to go, or you would have returned to that place rather than seek the help of a stranger."

Roxas swallowed and just barely managed a nod. Again, the cloth dropped.

"Will you steal from this house?" asked Xemnas as walked to the pile of linens. He chose several strips before returning.

"No," said Roxas as the man kneeled beside him. "I only did it because I had to. Promise."

Xemnas began to dress Roxas' wound with the bandages. This didn't hurt nearly as much as cleaning did, and Roxas felt he could relax. His only complaint was that Xemnas' hands were still very cold. He must have stepped outside to get the water for the basin.

"In that case," began Xemnas, his eyes never once leaving Roxas' shoulder, "perhaps it is best if you stay here."

"What, like for good?" Roxas narrowed his eyes, both surprised and suspicious. "Really? Why would-augh!" Xemnas had tightened the bandage. It hurt almost as much as the cleaning, but only because he wasn't prepared for the sudden change in pressure.

"I have many spare rooms," explained the olive-skinned man. He tied the bandage into a firm knot and stood straight. "I am a very private man. However, even I grow weary of being alone. Perhaps one guest will not be such an inconvenience. I have but one condition."

Roxas swallowed and stood from his chair. Of course there would be a condition. "What is it?"

"You are not to enter the first room to the right of the staircase," said the man. "That room is my private study and it is not to be disturbed."

Roxas sighed. That was all? "Got it."

"You may choose any room in the west wing." Xemnas turned to leave, having never once sent Roxas a glance. "I assume you are not too injured to see to that on your own."

"Sure..." Roxas nodded. This stranger was, well, very strange, but he was not unkind. Not by any means. He had tended to Roxas' injuries and offered a place to sleep, all after Roxas had broken into his house. Roxas owed a great deal to this man, and he would do his best to repay him, starting by following the order to stay away from the study.

But...damn if Roxas wasn't curious.

_Author's Note_

_Explanation: The Ankou is the last of a parish to die for each year. The Ankou will spend a year collecting the souls of the dead before the job is passed on to the next. Essentially, a "grim reaper." The Ankou has nothing in particular to do with fire; The gossip is nothing more than fearful whispers._

_Disclaimer: The author of this story has naught to do with the creation of the game on which this story is based._


	2. Empty Space

**Chapter 2**

_Empty Space_

The room Roxas had chosen was of comfortable size. Bigger than his room at home, but not as huge as the rest of the rooms in the wing. The sheets were fine cotton, the quilt was heavy and warm, and the bed was softer than he could have asked for. Xemnas had allowed him use of the clothes in the room's wardrobe, and there were comfortable night clothes waiting for him within. Roxas wasn't hungry, he wasn't thirsty... His shoulder pained him, but it was a dull pain, and he should have been able to sleep through it. He had everything he could have asked for, considering the circumstances, but he absolutely could not sleep. There was no chance of it. He'd been rolling back and forth in his bed for hours, but rest only continued to evade him.

By the time midnight had passed (and then some), Roxas had had quite enough of his tossing and turning and decided instead to familiarize himself with the house he was in. Rather, the mansion he was in. It was definitely a mansion, and that fact reasserted itself when Roxas stepped into the hall. With three other bedrooms in that wing alone, he had had more than enough to choose from. All of the bedrooms had been very nice as well, though perhaps a little large for his tastes. (One, he felt, was the size of his entire house in the village.) The corridor itself, however, felt empty and cold. No paintings adorned the tall walls, no shelves, no flowers, no mirrors... There weren't even windows, short of the one on the far end of the corridor. Just plain walls and doors. To be honest, it made Roxas a little uncomfortable, but at least he didn't have to worry about bumping into anything in the dark; There was nothing to bump into.

The boy passed a door that he'd opened earlier thinking it would be another bedroom (it was a ballroom, actually) and returned to the grand staircase where he'd spotted Xemnas when he first arrived. On the opposite side of the staircase would be the east wing, which was most likely where Xemnas slept, so Roxas opted to instead descend the staircase to avoid disturbing his new landlord.

At the ground floor was a collection of doors leading to various rooms. There was a dining room that looked as though it hadn't been touched in years, what seemed to be a lounge of sorts, a kitchen that seemed to get as much use as the dining room, and...

Roxas paused on his way to the last door he hadn't tried. That is, the last door he was allowed to try. He glanced at the door beside the staircase, the door he had been warned not to open. Well, that wasn't entirely true, was it? Xemnas told him not to go inside. Not a word was said about whether he would be allowed to just open the door and take a peek. Maybe if he just looked...

A black blur on the staircase caught Roxas' attention and he tore his eyes away from the door to look up, but by the time he did, the figure had moved. He caught only a glimpse of the black thing-an animal? Or a person?-before it disappeared into the hallway that led back to Roxas' bedroom. Frowning, Roxas rushed to the staircase and hurriedly ascended the stairs, giving chase. The sound of every bare-footed step reached his ears as a soft thud from below, echoing beneath the wooden floor. His sleepwear fluttered around him as he ran. He reached the hall, ran down it, and…

...nothing.

There was no one there. All of the doors were still closed. Or, more likely, had been closed.

There was no way the blur just vanished. It had to have hidden in one of the rooms. That meant it was human. Roxas sighed and chose a door, the far one on the left, and walked inside.

"If you're in here, you can come out," called Roxas as he opened the door of the wardrobe. Nothing was hidden inside but clothes. "I'm not going to hurt you. It doesn't even matter if you're a thief or something. The guy who owns this house was really nice to me. If you give up whatever you were trying to steal, I'm sure he'll understand. He might even help you. He helped me." The boy closed the door and massaged his shoulder. "I'm nice, too. Or... I mean, I try to be." Roxas walked to the bed and kneeled, wincing as he bent down to check beneath the mattress. Nothing there, either. Sighing, he stood up and continued his sweep of the room, starting with the trunk at the end of the bed.

Roxas repeated this pattern for the other rooms, including his own. Announce his presence, assure the whoever-it-was that he was far from threatening, and search everywhere he could think of where the mystery person might be hiding. Nothing. He (or she, Roxas supposed) must have escaped from one room while he was checking another. The blur was gone.

Sighing in disappointment, Roxas sat on the edge of his bed. Something slid toward his thigh and he grabbed for it. He brought it close to his face, squinting to determine what it was with only the pale moonlight from his window to show him. "What...?"

* * *

"Xemnas?"

"One moment."

Roxas shuffled his feet nervously beside the entrance to the library. After a restless night of tossing and turning, he'd decided to find his landlord and explain what he'd seen the night before. It took a great deal of searching to find Xemnas, but Roxas did finally find him in the only ground floor room he hadn't tried the evening previous. The library was beautiful, but its size only served to make Roxas even more nervous than he already was. Xemnas had been kind to him, yes, but that didn't make him less intimidating. Waiting for him to finish the page he was reading was nerve wracking to say the least.

Finally, Xemnas looked up from his book. "You may speak."

Roxas took a deep breath. "I saw someone in the house last night," he explained. "It might have been a thief. I don't know. I didn't even get a good look. I mean, it was dark, and whoever it was ran away really fast."

"Hm." Xemnas crossed his wrists over his book. "I doubt what you saw was a threat. Rather, I think you may have encountered my little ghost."

"Ghost?" Roxas swallowed. Goosebumps climbed across his arms and up the back of his neck.

"Not a literal ghost," explained the olive-skinned man. "I must apologize, Roxas. I was not upfront with you yesterday. Truth be told, I did not think that I would need to explain her existence so quickly. Even I rarely encounter her, which is why her presence does little to...ease my loneliness. She is ill, not with a sickness of the body, but with a sickness of the mind. She has a great fear of people. I allow her to wander through this house as she pleases, and she rarely makes her presence known. More often than the girl herself, I see her broken seashells. I believe she collects them. When they break, she discards them for me to clean up." For an instant, the slightest glimpse of an annoyed frown caught Roxas' eye, and then vanished.

"Seashells?" The boy crossed his injured arm over his chest, the other hovering half-closed in front of his mouth as he considered this new information. "I found a seashell on my bed last night. It wasn't broken, though."

"I see." Xemnas averted his eyes to the floor. "Perhaps she has seen enough of you to attain a fondness for you. More likely than not, the shell was a gift."

"What's her name?" asked Roxas, and dropped his arms.

"Xion." The silver-haired man returned his gaze to his book, a clear sign that the conversation had come to an end. "She is my niece. Much like my study, she is not to be disturbed."

Roxas swallowed and stepped back, reaching for the door handle. "Right... Okay." He left the room with a frown. Don't disturb her? Was that the same as don't talk to her? The way Xemnas had said it, that was what it sounded like, but if the shell really was a gift, didn't that mean she was trying to make friends? So would talking to her really be disturbing her? Maybe she was trying to get over her fear of people. Maybe Roxas could help her, and if Roxas helped Xion, maybe that would be enough to repay Xemnas for everything he had done. If nothing else, it might be a nice place to start.

Why not give it a shot?

* * *

Though Roxas had resolved to find Xion, the task was not as easy as he originally thought. Xemnas was right. It was as though she wasn't in the house at all. 'Ghost' had turned out to be an accurate description. Days passed, and Roxas could not find hide nor hair of Xemnas' mysterious niece. If Xemnas himself had not confirmed her existence, Roxas would have thought he was going mad.

In truth, he still thought he was going mad. Day after day passed, and Roxas found that he never became hungry. The need for water evaded him. Sleep never came. He'd decided his strange absence of need was most likely caused by stress. After all, he had run away from home. He hadn't even gotten the chance to say a final farewell to his brother. He just disappeared. Roxas had to wonder what Sora thought of him, whether the rumors had spread to his brother's ears. It was enough for anyone to lose his appetite.

Xemnas had taught Roxas to tend to his own wounds, and he did so every evening before going to bed. He would remove his bandages, stair disdainfully at the reflection of his wound in the looking glass, and wrap fresh strips of linen over his shoulder in the way that Xemnas had taught him.

One night, just over a week after Roxas had arrived, the boy was finishing his nightly routine of tending to his wounds when he looked over his reflection's wounded shoulder and caught sight of a curious, blue eye staring at him from the door he'd left ajar. It stayed for only a moment before vanishing.

"W-Wait!" Roxas turned on the spot, wincing when the twist of his torso tugged on his shoulder. He immediately gave chase, barely able to make it through his doorway after stumbling over the blankets at the corner of his bed with a strained, "Aaa-aah!"

This time, Roxas could clearly see the figure ahead of him, or at least her back. The moonlight from the sole window behind them caught her hair, which seemed to be black, though it was difficult to tell in the dark corridor. It matched her clothing: A black, hooded coat that reached her ankles. Roxas noticed her gloves when he got close enough to grab her hand. They were made of a cool leather that was soft to the touch.

"Xion, right?" asked Roxas, his hand firmly gripping the girl's to keep her from running away. She refused to face him, instead keeping her back turned. "I'm not going to hurt you," assured Roxas, his voice gentle and patient. "I just want to talk. I found a shell in my room last night. Did it come from you?"

There was an excruciatingly long moment of silence, a moment that made Roxas think that she might not answer at all, but then the girl proved him wrong.

"Yes," said Xion, her voice quiet and shy, almost a whisper.

Roxas smiled. One word. It was a start. "Did you leave it in there on purpose?"

"Yes," said Xion once more, this time promptly.

"Why?" asked Roxas.

"You said you were nice."

"I am," said Roxas, and released Xion's hand. If she wanted to run, she was free to, even if Roxas hoped she wouldn't. "I wish I had something to give you. You know, in return for the seashell."

"That's okay," replied Xion, her face still turned away.

"It's not much, but I could be your friend," said Roxas. "I left everything behind when I came here, so I guess friendship is all I have."

Again, there was a long pause, and Xion slowly turned in place. She cautiously looked up at Roxas, revealing blue eyes hidden in part by raven hair. "You...really want to be my friend?" she asked, hesitation layered in her tones.

"Yeah," said Roxas. "I'd love to." And then, "Have...you ever had a friend before?"

"Once," said Xion. "We don't...really get to talk much anymore."

"Why not?" asked Roxas.

This time, Xion really didn't answer.

"Okay, I guess it's too personal, huh?" Roxas' smile stayed on his face, shifting into something more understanding. "How about your friend's name? Can you tell me that?"

Roxas could see the hesitation in Xion's eyes as she pondered whether or not to answer, and then, "His name's Axel."

"Axel…" Roxas' smile widened. "That's a pretty cool name. What's he like?"

"He's nice," said Xion, a small smile of her own gracing her pretty face. "Like you."

Roxas really liked this girl. She was very sweet, and for the first time since he left home, Roxas actually felt content. Maybe even happy. "Do you want to tell me more about him?" asked the boy. "We could go into my room, and-"

"No." Xion took a step back. The smile was long gone. "I can't."

Roxas' smile disappeared as well. "Why can't you?"

"I just…" For the third time, a deafening silence appeared between the two. "I just can't." The girl turned and walked away, leaving Roxas feeling very confused and perhaps a little hurt, until Xion paused halfway to the grand staircase, turned around, and sent Roxas one last hesitant smile.

"Maybe… Maybe we can talk again sometime, though!" she called, a half-hearted smile capturing her features for a split second before vanishing again, the smile's owner disappearing along with it into the darkness of the east wing.


	3. Whispers of the Wind

**Chapter 3**

_Whispers of the Wind_

Not much had changed over the past week of Roxas' life.

He still wasn't sleeping, which didn't bother him too much. He was actually sort of beginning to appreciate the extra hours that would have otherwise gone into unconsciousness.

However, he also hadn't eaten. That was less easy to accept. Weeks had gone by without Roxas craving so much as a single slice of bread, yet he wasn't growing any thinner, nor was he feeling any weaker. For whatever reason, he simply hadn't needed to eat.

While Roxas stood in front of the mirror, redressing his wound and trying to decide whether the past two weeks had been anything more than a dream, he saw a familiar eye glint at him from the doorway in the looking glass. Roxas smiled and tied off the ends of his bandages before turning around.

"Xion," he greeted, reaching for the shirt he'd set on his bed so that he could pull it over his head. To his surprise, the girl who had been so afraid of entering his room the week before slid inside without hesitation and closed the door behind her.

"Hi, um…" Xion picked at the hood of her coat and averted her eyes. Roxas watched her for a long, curious moment before the reason behind her hesitation clicked.

"I didn't tell you my name, did I?" he realized suddenly. Xion looked up at him with a nervous smile, and that was all the answer he needed. "It's Roxas."

"Roxas…" Xion lifted her head, the smile on her lips no longer showing any sign of anxiety. "It's nice to meet you."

Roxas laughed quietly and offered his hand, which was quickly met with the cool leather of Xion's glove.

"What brings you here?" asked Roxas, withdrawing his hand.

"I wanted to ask a question," explained Xion. "Do you...have a family?"

Roxas looked down at his feet. It had been a while since he thought about them. Suddenly, he was all too aware of that fact, and with that awareness came guilt. He sighed and turned to take a seat on the edge of his bed. "I've got a brother," said the boy. "Sora. He's a total goofball, and he's definitely not the sharpest thorn in the bush, but he's…" Roxas frowned, searching for the word. "...wise, I guess."

Xion giggled softly, covering her mouth with a gloved hand. "How can he be dumb and wise at the same time?"

"It's hard to explain," replied Roxas with a grin. It was nice to see Xion break through her shyness enough to laugh. "He's got this way of...knowing people, you know? He can tell what people are feeling when they're trying to hide it. Even strangers. And he knows exactly what to say when people are upset. I guess that's probably why Riku gets along so well with him." Roxas rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, heh, that's Sora's best friend. He's really quiet, and he has this bad habit of blaming himself for things that aren't his fault, or things he couldn't help. Sora always knows exactly what to do to make him feel better about himself."

"You, too?" asked Xion. "I mean, does he make you feel better about yourself?"

Roxas' smile shrank an inch. "Yeah. Me, too."

Xion looked down at her feet for a moment before lifting her head again. "What about your parents?"

Roxas shrugged. "Never knew my dad," he explained. "Mom died in the big storm from a few years ago. It's just been me and Sora ever since. Well, Riku and Kairi help out sometimes, but-"

"Kairi?" asked Xion.

"Another one of Sora's friends," explained Roxas. "Actually, you look a lot like her. Your hair's black, though. Hers is kind of...mahogany, I guess."

Xion touched her own cheek. "You're...able to see my face?"

"Yeah," answered Roxas with a cocked eyebrow. "It's not that dark in here."

Xion smiled and shook her head. Somehow, she seemed a lot happier than she had been just a moment before. "Sorry, I…"

Roxas waited patiently for the end of Xion's explanation, but it never came, so he moved on to the next subject. "What about your family?"

"Um…" Xion averted her eyes. "I had...a dad and two brothers, but…"

"Oh…" Roxas looked down at his hands, which rested on his knees. Now he knew why she was living with Xemnas.

"Why are you here?" asked Xion, as if responding to Roxas' thoughts. "I mean, if you've got a brother, then…"

Roxas rubbed his sore shoulder. "I...broke a law. A big one. And everyone back home… They weren't happy about it."

Xion chewed her lip.

Roxas shuffled his feet.

"Xemnas isn't nice."

Roxas looked up and met Xion's eyes. She was serious. "What are you talking about?" The boy shook his head. "He took me in, even though he knew there were people after me. He gave me clothes, and a bed, and he helped me out when I was…" Roxas gripped his shoulder. "And he lets you stay here, too! Why would you say something like that?"

"I know he seems nice at first," said Xion, "but he isn't." Roxas saw her hands clench into fists. "You should go back and find your brother, and then go somewhere else if you have to. Anywhere else. But not here. It's not safe."

Roxas stood from the edge of his bed. His own hands curled into fists. "I don't believe you."

Xion's eyes widened, and Roxas found himself wishing he had said what he'd said a little more delicately. The girl clasped her hands together tightly, her fingers overlapping one another. Roxas couldn't see her knuckles, but he could guess that they were white beneath the gloves. "I… I'm trying to help you, Roxas."

Roxas shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Even if I did believe you, I have nowhere else to go."

Xion looked down at her feet. "Okay," she said quietly. "If… If you ever change your mind, then...tell me, and I'll try to help you get out."

* * *

In the center of a room filled with books, in front of a polished, maple desk, stood a very studious-looking man. The light from the stained-glass window behind the desk caught his eyes, igniting the acid green ring around his pupils. The blond hair that reached his shoulders framed his face and accentuated his angular features. With careful, bony hands, he labored away at the crystalline figure in front of him, carving into the ice effortlessly with little more than strokes of his long, thin fingers. He bent down low to inspect the face of his creation, frowning in concentration.

"Is this an exact replica?" asked the man to his young companion in the chair behind the desk.

"It does seem to be," replied the boy. He stood, the long fringes he had parted to one side of his face tickling his collarbone with his movements, and he lifted the book that lied on the desk before him. Carrying it with one hand, he walked around the desk, his free hand tracing an image on the page that only he could see. He turned a page, approaching the ice sculpture in the center of the room, and scrutinized the book's pages. "Hmmm... Although, perhaps..." The boy took a step closer to the figure and peered into its eyes. Unlike the taller male beside him, he did not need to bend to make eye contact. The stool that the glassy creation was perched upon was enough to bring the creature to his eye level. "Yes, his eyes are not quite so...severe in the Atlas of Omens."

"Hm." The blond man reached out and covered his sculpture's eyes with his thumbs. He slid them across, and when he withdrew his hands, the eyes were softer. More genuine. "Does that suffice, Zexion?"

The boy nodded and closed the book in his hands. With careful footsteps, he walked around the shaped ice, inspecting every inch of the sculpture. When he returned to the place where he started, he placed his book carefully on the desk. "I believe it does," he confirmed. "And in that case, may I have the honors, Vexen?"

The man, Vexen, nodded tersely. "Very well. I did the last one myself, after all."

Zexion crossed the room, passing the sculpture to reach a bookcase on the far wall. On one of the shelves, between two of the books, lied a glass urn, something pink glittering from inside. Zexion carefully removed the lid, and a bright light rose up and out. With a gentle hand, the boy reached forward and caught the light, holding it in his hand as if it were a rare butterfly: Precious, but fragile. He replaced the lid and carried the light back to the sculpture, opening his hand only once he was beside Vexen once more, and only inches away from the statue's front. When his fingers parted, the light rose again to hover just a few centimeters above his palm. Zexion leaned closer to his hand, parted his lips, and blew a cool current of air toward the light, guiding it forward until it met the sculpture's chest.

Upon colliding with the ice, the light slowly began to sink in, sliding deeper and deeper until it reached the core of the carving. Once there, the light bloomed outward, refracting against every surface and glittering like a diamond in the sunlight. Still glimmering, the creation blinked and lifted its head, as if seeing for the first time and trying to process his surroundings from top to bottom.

Zexion reached out with a hand and pressed two fingers to the creature's forehead. Where there had been living, glittering ice before, color began to grow, spreading outward from Zexion's touch. Pale skin replaced the statue's transparent face. Its hair changed very little, but grew opaque, and ceased to shine so brilliantly. From the neck down, the coat, carved painstakingly from Vexen's steady hands, turned black, contrasting brilliantly with the creature's hair. Its eyes, however, were the most striking feature. Though they were no longer transparent, and had become turquoise in color, they seemed to shine no less.

"He is handsome indeed," said Vexen, and nodded in approval. "Excellent choice, Zexion."

"Thank you, Vexen."

The boy, for that appeared to be exactly what it was, stepped shakily down from the stool. The two creators hastily reached out and grabbed the boy's arms, guiding him down.

"You need to be more careful," chided Zexion. "You might look human, but this is only an illusion. Underneath it, you're still just made of ice, which makes you very fragile."

"Ice is...fragile," said the boy absently.

"That's right," agreed Vexen. "Of course, you won't melt at room temperature. I have seen to that. Still, I suggest you avoid fireplaces."

"Avoid fireplaces..." parrotted the boy.

Zexion sighed. "Judging from precedent, I suppose he'll be doing that for about a week?"

"Until he builds up a decent vocabulary, yes." Vexen released his creation's arm and gestured for Zexion to do the same. "And he will need a name." ("Name..." echoed the boy.) "Was the original's name mentioned in that tome?"

Zexion picked his book up yet again and shuffled through the pages, stopping suddenly and tracing his fingers across the seemingly blank parchment. His hand stopped, and he tapped his index finger. "His name is...Riku."

"Riku." Vexen turned toward his creation and bent down low, resting his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Then it is decided. Your name will be as much of a replica as you are. Your name is Riku."


	4. Cold As Ice

**Chapter 4**

_Cold As Ice_

Snow. Feather-light white flakes glided on the breeze of that late autumn day, dancing across the wind, spiraling and swirling close to walls, lamps, anything within their reach before being pulled away and continuing their graceful, gusty waltz. The snow was as beautiful as it had always been, but Sora couldn't remember it ever being quite so cold.

"Sora..."

A gentle voice caught the boy's attention, dragging his gaze away from the falling snowflakes. He turned his head toward the sound and wasn't the slightest bit surprised to see his best friend standing not too far away. After all, he had seen those concerned eyes at least once a day for the past month.

"Hey, Riku." Sora smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Why're you here?"

"You know why I'm here," sighed Riku, exasperation hidden under the patience he'd earned after years of friendship with a certain well-meaning but reckless brunet. "Someone has to look after you, since you can't seem to do it yourself." The older boy took a few steps closer and offered a hand. "You need to stop doing stuff like this. You're just making yourself worse."

Sora took Riku's hand and used it to pull his shivering body up from the earthy path below. A warmth wrapped around his shoulders. Sora didn't bother taking his eyes off of the dying grass beneath his feet. He knew that Riku had given him his coat. Again. "It's not like I went into the woods again," he grumbled. "I was just...keeping watch, you know?"

Riku pushed the front door open and coaxed Sora inside. "Yeah, keeping watch in freezing weather," he chided quietly. "Making yourself sicker. Look, your fire's basically out."

Sora lifted his head from the wooden flooring to see Riku crouching down to tend to the dying embers. "You don't have to do that," he insisted, knowing full well that there was no point in arguing.

"Someone has to," grumbled Riku. A few moments later and a small flame ignited, which Riku was quick to feed with some lumber beside the fireplace. "What did you think you were doing, anyway? It's not like Roxas can just walk back into town like nothing happened. Even if he tried, he'd be put to death for witchcraft."

"It's not _witchcraft_," insisted Sora.

"I know that," replied Riku, "but they don't. They see someone doing something people shouldn't be able to do, and they get scared. Besides, Roxas did it to steal-"

"Yeah, _medicine_!" whined Sora. "For _me_! I mean, yeah, he shouldn't have done that, but he was just doing what his heart told him, right? So-"

"I _know_, Sora." Riku climbed to his feet and gripped his friend's shoulders. "You've told me a thousand times. I get it."

Sora groaned and allowed his head to loll forward and rest on Riku's shoulder. "I can't just do nothing," he whispered.

Riku sighed and pulled one of his hands away from Sora to rub his forehead. "Sora, the best thing you can do right now is get better. That's what Roxas would want. You know that, and I know that."

Sora lifted his head. "I know, but... Riku, I can't sleep like this! He's out there somewhere! By _himself_! If-" A rattling cough cut the boy's words short. He covered his mouth with his hands, and Riku's coat began to slip from his shoulders.

"You shouldn't get yourself worked up like that," chastised Riku as he adjusted the jacket, pulling it tighter around Sora's shoulders. "Just relax. Got it?"

"Don't-" Sora managed to interject in the middle of his coughing fit. Thankfully, it was only a moment before his coughing lessened enough for him to talk. "I don't want-" Cough. "-to make you sick, too."

"I won't get sick," assured Riku. "I promise. Come on." He took Sora by his arm and led him to his bedroom.

When the two walked into Sora's room, the elder of the two sighed emphatically. The fire actually_ had _managed to go out in _that _fireplace. Once he'd convinced Sora to sit down on the bed, he pulled away. "I'll get a coal from the other fire. You just get under the blankets."

"But-" protested Sora, only for one of Riku's hands to reach out once more to cover his mouth.

"_Now_," the silver-haired boy said sternly.

Grudgingly, Sora complied.

When Riku returned with the coal as promised, Sora rolled over and watched him bring yet another fire to life. "You're pretty good at that," he observed.

Riku stood up and turned around to make his way to Sora's bed and sit on the edge. "I'll make you a deal," he said. "If you promise not to do anything stupid while I'm gone, I'll go out and look for Roxas myself. Stay inside, keep the fire going, get as much rest as you can..."

"_No_!" Sora tried to sit up, only for Riku to push him back down. "Riku, what if something happens to you?"

"Don't you think the same thing goes through my head every time I catch you trying to sneak out?" asked Riku with a stern look.

"I don't want to lose my brother_ and _my best friend!" insisted Sora. "No way am I letting that happen!"

"And _I _don't want to lose _you_," countered Riku.

"But _you _wouldn't be _alone _if you lost me."

"Neither would you. You'd still have Kairi-"

"That doesn't count. Her parents-"

"Sora, stop."

Sora stopped, his face freezing somewhere between a glare and a pout.

"I wouldn't be the same if I lost you." Sora felt Riku's hand grip the blankets beside him. "You said I wouldn't be alone, but I might as well be. I'm nobody without you."

Sora's gaze softened. "Riku... Why are you saying that?" He shook his head, ignoring the way it tangled his hair on the mattress. "You'd be just fine on your own. I know you would be."

"No, I wouldn't." Riku's hand sought Sora's, giving it a gentle squeeze before the elder boy stood from the bed. "I'll still bring you dinner every night, same as usual, and if I catch you out of bed for anything that's not getting water or feeding the fire, the deal's off, and I'll start babysitting you twenty-four seven."

"Is that a promise?"

It took a second, but one look at Sora's playful smirk told Riku that he was joking. A laugh bubbled up before Riku had a chance to stop it. "How are you still such a dork when you're this sick?"

"Special talent," said Sora, his smirk replaced with a grin. "Way more useful than the lock-picking thing."

Riku smiled, shook his head, and retrieved his coat from where it had been discarded at the head of Sora's bed before starting once again for the door. "I'll start looking first thing in the morning."

* * *

Xion was a very curious girl. It had only taken a few visits from her for Roxas to ascertain that. Despite Xemnas' insistence that she didn't like to talk to people, Xion seemed to never stop asking Roxas questions, whether it was about life outside the walls of the mansion, or whether it was about Roxas' personal life. She asked about his mother, his brother, his village... Any knowledge she could sink her teeth into. It was as if she hadn't learned anything before and was yearning to make up for years of ignorance.

"Roxas... Do a lot of people have that name?"

"No," replied Roxas, a smile on his face, the same smile that he always wore when Xion visited him. "Actually, I don't think anyone else in the world has it."

"Then why do you have it?" asked Xion, her arms wrapped comfortably around one of Roxas' bedposts.

"Because I sort of... I guess you could say I wasn't supposed to exist," replied Roxas. "I mean, my mom knew she was going to have a kid, but didn't have a clue there would be two until after my brother and I were born. She didn't know what to name the second kid because she didn't know there was gonna be a second kid, so she just rearranged the letters of Sora's name and put an 'x' in the middle. She always used to tease me and say the 'x' was short for 'extra.' I think the real reason was because she liked to be different, and the letter 'x' isn't in most names. But...you said you had a friend named Axel, right? There's an 'x' in that name, isn't there?"

"Mmhmm," intoned Xion. "And there's one in my name, too. X-I-O-N."

Roxas leaned back on his bed, propping himself up by his arms, crossing his legs over the edge. "You're always asking me questions. Mind if I ask one?"

Xion raised her eyebrows, surprised. "Um, sure. I'll try to answer it, but I don't know that much."

"Well, you know where my name came from, right?" Regretting the decision to lean on his wounded arm, Roxas pulled it up and rested it on his knee, favoring his left arm instead. "So I wanna know where yours comes from."

"Oh!" Xion's surprised expression was replaced with an eager smile. "I actually know that one! My dad used to go everywhere, just exploring, trying to learn new things from different places. His two favorite places were a couple of neighboring countries. I don't remember what they were called, but I remember my father saying that one of them had dragons everywhere."

"_Dragons_?" Roxas raised an eyebrow.

"Not _real _ones!" Xion giggled. "Just statues and stuff. When my dad named me, he wanted a name that had something to do with water, so he named me after one of the rivers in the Land of Dragons: Xi River. The other part of my name comes from the word for 'woman' in my father's other favorite place. Officially, my name is 'Xionna,' but the only time anyone ever called me that was my dad when I did something I wasn't supposed to."

"Xionna's really pretty, though," said Roxas.

"Yeah, but it's just not..._me, _you know?" Xion's smile seemed to dampen, if only slightly. "I don't have much from when my dad and my brothers were still around. Just my name. If I don't hold onto that, I feel like their memories would be gone forever."

Roxas sat up straight and rubbed his shoulder. "Xion..." he began hesitantly. "What happened to them?"

Xion released the bedpost she had been hanging onto and took a few steps back, away from Roxas and toward the door. Her smile had vanished yet again, and her gaze had fallen to the floor. "Maybe I'll tell you one day, but right now, you just... You wouldn't understand."

"Why not?" asked Roxas. "I lost my mom, so I know what it's like for someone you love to go away, and how it feels knowing they won't ever come back. I get it, Xion. Why won't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry." Xion turned around and walked away, disappearing into the hallway without a further word, leaving Roxas with what felt like an empty space in his chest.

* * *

"Seeeeeasheeeeell. Now you try."

The silver-haired boy sitting on the floor in front of the girl turned the smooth, shining object over in his gloved hands, inspecting it curiously. "...Seashell."

"Xion," called Zexion from the bookshelf across the room, "there's no need to patronize him. Riku is intelligent enough to understand what you're saying without elongating the vowels."

"I know," said Xion. "But he's so...spacey. Sometimes he just picks a word instead of saying the one I want him to say."

"I'm...spacey?" asked Riku.

"Just a little bit," admitted Xion.

"Just a little bit," echoed Riku.

"He'll only be this way for two more days at the longest," explained Zexion. "You just need to be patient with him. Soon, he will be just as articulate as you are."

"Articulate?" questioned both Riku and Xion, both turning toward their elder.

Zexion sighed. "He'll be better at speaking."

"Oh." Xion turned her face toward Riku again. "Was I ever like that?"

"Yes, you were," acknowledged Zexion as he finally made his decision and pulled a book from the shelf. "To be honest, he's learning much faster than you did. It was a long time before you learned how to speak at all. He was able to speak immediately, even if his speech patterns seemed somewhat..."

"Spacey?" offered Riku.

"I suppose that's an accurate enough description," agreed Zexion. "Not the word I would have used, but acceptable. Well done, Riku."

Riku seemed to pay the compliment no mind, instead turning his attention back to the shell in his hands.

Xion watched Riku play with the keepsake, a fond smile on her face. "You really like that, don't you?" She turned toward the eldest in the room once more. "Hey, Zexion? Do you think I could learn how to make something out of seashells? I want to give Riku a present when he learns how to speak, like when Vexen gave me my first seashell."

"Hmm..." Zexion turned a page in his book. "I have heard of a legend from some of the islands Vexen has visited-a place called Destiny Islands. If I am remembering correctly, they give star-shaped trinkets made of seashells to sailors who are about to embark on a journey under the belief that the trinkets will bring them home safely. Of course, the myth behind the charms-Wayfinders, I believe they're called-is nothing more than a fairy tale, but that does not stop the Wayfinders themselves from being lovely. There could be a problem with this, however, as I believe the charms are only capable of being made from five shells like the first of the shells that Vexen has given you. Thalassa shells, as they're called. Incidentally, the inhabitants of Olympus have a deity of the same name. One has to consider the possible connections between the goddess Thalassa and-"

"Zexion, you're doing it again."

Zexion raised his eyebrows. Xion covered her mouth. Riku looked between the two of them, the confusion and alarm on his face difficult to miss.

Xion was the first to break the stunned stillness. Loud, excited giggles filled the room as she leaned forward and pulled Riku into a tight hug. "That was great, Riku!"

Zexion frowned. "I wish his first real sentence had been something other than _that_, but I am proud nonetheless. Well done."

Xion giggled. "It's probably just because I say it so much, but _still_! Wow, Riku!" The raven-haired girl pulled away and patted the silver-haired boy's cheeks. "You're so smart!"

Zexion marked his page and closed his book. "I believe that may be deserving of ice cream. Let's find Vexen, shall we? There is something I need to discuss with him, so we might as well kill two birds with one stone."

Xion beamed and climbed to her feet, grabbing Riku by the wrists and pulling him up as well. "Have you had ice cream yet?"

"Ice cream?" asked Riku, testing the new word in his mouth.

"You're going to love it!" said Xion. "Come on!"

* * *

"Roxas, might I speak with you?"

Roxas quickly closed the book that he could just barely read and sat up straight. It was a rare thing to see Xemnas at all, and rarer still for the two to speak. If Xemnas was actually seeking Roxas out, it must have been something important.

"Yes?"

Xemnas pulled out the chair across from Roxas at the table and took a seat. "Something important has occurred, and I am needed away from home for a time."

"Really?" asked Roxas. "What?"

"It is...a private matter," explained Xemnas. "I have only told you this much to make a point of reiterating the house rules. I want to know that it is clear to you that they are still in place regardless of whether or not I am present."

"The...house rules..." echoed Roxas.

Xemnas sent the boy a deadpan stare. "You are not to enter my study, and you are not to approach Xion."

Roxas' eyes widened. He'd almost forgotten that those were rules. The second rule, well, that was pretty much shot. Xion was probably the best friend Roxas had ever had, except maybe for Sora. As for the first rule, he hadn't even really thought about the study for a few weeks. He just avoided that room out of habit.

"Right..." Roxas chuckled. "Those house rules. Got it."

"See to it that you do," warned Xemnas as he climbed to his feet. "I will leave tonight, and I will do my best to return tomorrow."

Xemnas left the room, and Roxas paid the conversation little mind for a very long time.

* * *

"Roxas... Hey, Roxas!"

Roxas groaned as the gentle voice of his best friend yanked him out of his sleep.

"Xion?" he grumbled tiredly. "What-"

"Get up! You're bleeding!"

Roxas frowned suspiciously and looked down at himself. There was blood everywhere, all over his bed, smeared on his chest, but most notably from his shoulder. That sight was more than enough to wake him up. It was startling, that was for sure, but not terribly confusing. Over the past month, he'd gotten sloppy with his bandages. After all, his wound had never been a problem. It wasn't really healing the way he would have liked it to, but it hadn't been bleeding, either. Roxas supposed he must have disturbed the wound in his sleep, and pulled his bandages loose at the same time. He reached up and grabbed the wound. It hurt like hell. What a way to wake up.

"Come on!" Xion tugged on Roxas' good arm, trying to pull him out of bed. "I have some stuff that can help!"

Having been successfully dragged out of bed, Roxas hurriedly followed Xion through the hallways. She pulled him into the east wing, where he normally didn't go for fear of disturbing Xemnas, and into a room. It was circular on the inside, a polished maple desk on the far side of the room, and a rug as round as the room in the center. Shelves lined the walls, mostly with books that made Roxas want to describe it as a smaller version of the library downstairs, but there were also various jars between books here and there. Xion reached for one of those jars, a transparent one holding blue liquid. Green stars floated around inside, like some mystical soup. The girl shoved it into Roxas' hands.

"Drink this," she said. "I promise it'll make you feel better."

Roxas stared dubiously down at it before following Xion's instructions. It was luke-warm, had no taste, and if not for the gelatinous stars, Roxas might have said it had no texture. A chill spread from his chest outward, targeting his shoulder in particular. It was freezing, but his shoulder, for the first time in a month, stopped hurting almost completely. Not even the dull ache he'd been dealing with prior to the excruciating pain of that night remained. If anything, it just felt like a scrape.

Xion got close to inspect the wound and sighed in relief. "Let's get you cleaned up now, okay?"

Roxas led Xion back to his bedroom, allowing her to stay in his room while he cleaned his wound. Or, rather, what was left of that wound.

"You're not going to tell me what that stuff was, are you?" he accused, looking to Xion's reflection in his looking glass. Xion didn't say a word, and Roxas took that as his answer. The blood washed from his shoulder, he dressed his wound yet again-though it really felt unnecessary because all that remained was a scar with a shallow cut in the center on either side.

"Did Xemnas tell you he was leaving?" asked Xion.

"Yeah, he did," replied Roxas. "Heh, he reminded me of the house rules. Don't go into the study, don't talk to Xion. Whoops." He laughed softly. "Well, I haven't gone into the study yet, so maybe I'm not completely deviant, right?"

Xion looked like she was about to say something, but stopped herself before saying whatever it was. A few seconds later, she opened her mouth to speak again, but Roxas doubted it was the first thing she was going to say.

"Are you hungry?"

Roxas was about to respond when his stomach did the talking for him.

Xion giggled and took Roxas by the hand. "Come on. I'll teach you how to make rice."

"And then you just put the lid on and watch the clock. It should be done in about twenty minutes."

Roxas did as he was told and backed away from the fireplace. He smiled at Xion before sitting down in the same chair he sat in when he had first arrived, when Xemnas cleaned his wound for the first time.

"Roxas… Do you know why Xemnas doesn't want you to go into, um, his study?"

The boy turned his head and looked at the girl who stood behind his chair, giving the fireplace a wide berth.

"He said that he likes to keep it private," said Roxas. "That's all."

"But, he also said that I was sick, right?" asked Xion. "And I'm not. I'm not really even shy, so there's no reason not to talk to me, is there?"

Roxas hesitated. "Where is this going?"

"Roxas, I really think you should go into that room." Xion bit her lip. "I mean, not right away. You can eat first, but...before Xemnas comes back, okay?"

"Why?" asked Roxas. "What's in there?"

Xion gripped the back of the chair. "You wouldn't believe me. You need to see it for yourself."

Roxas looked down at his feet. "Well… He did just say not to go inside. He didn't say anything about just opening the door and...looking inside."

Xion walked around the chair and wrapped Roxas in her arms. "Thank you," she said softly.

"Whoa!" Roxas pushed Xion away. "You're freezing! Maybe you should stand by the fire."

"No, I'm fine." Xion rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand. "It's okay. Just… Really… Thank you for trusting me. It means so much."

Roxas sighed as he looked into Xion's eyes. He couldn't bring himself to let her down. There was no backing out of this one. He'd have to do what she wanted, even if it meant breaking Xemnas' trust once more.

* * *

Roxas stared at the door. The door stared back, as if admonishing his decision. Honestly, he wasn't exactly all for the idea himself. He'd been avoiding that door so long, whether consciously or subconsciously, that he had grown to almost fear it.

Actually, to hell with 'almost,' Roxas was strangely terrified.

It was just a door. A forest green, intricately carved door, but still just a door. What on earth could he be so afraid of? What could Xemnas possibly be hiding? Sure, he was a private man, but Roxas had his fair share of secrets, and none of them were particularly dangerous. Still, Roxas' memory of Xion's warning from the week before was enough to make him worry. She had said that Xemnas was not to be trusted, that he was to be feared. Was she telling the truth? Was Roxas about to see exactly what she meant? Was he putting his life in danger by opening that door? Surely not. Xion wouldn't have made Roxas go alone if she was sending him into danger, and she had been so insistent on him going by himself. "It's something you need to see on your own," she said. "If I go with you, you might not see things the way that they are."

What Xion meant by that, Roxas hadn't a clue, but he supposed there was only one way to find out. Willing his hands not to shake, he reached out and grabbed the door by the handle. Locked. Right, like that was going to keep him out. The mechanics of the lock clicked into place, and Roxas pulled the door open to reveal...

"What?"

A set of stairs. Where Xemnas had claimed to be a study, there was a dusty room with empty shelves, a few discarded paintings that faced the walls, and a set of dark stairs leading downward into the basement.

Xemnas...had lied to him. Roxas clenched his teeth. That one undeniable fact was enough to make Roxas more inclined to believe what Xion had said about him. Just by opening that door, he had already proven that Xemnas was not what he seemed.

The fear and uncertainty that Roxas had been battling up to that point disappeared all at once. He no longer cared what Xemnas thought of him. Whatever was down those stairs was worth hiding, and Roxas aimed to find out what it was.

Throwing caution to the winds, Roxas stepped past the threshold and into the would-be study. He descended the stairs, filled with purpose despite the darkness that swirled around him. The air around him dropped in temperature as he strayed further and further from the warm fireplaces above. Dark, cold... It felt like Roxas was slowly lowering into a manifestation of depression itself. Why would Xemnas have a room like this? Why would he be hiding it?

The closer Roxas drew to the bottom of the stairs, the harder it was to ignore the sounds from below. The first he noticed was a quiet, high-pitched clanking, like the rattling of chains. The second was harder to describe. Sharp, shuddering sounds, even quieter than the clanking. A weak hissing, like steam rising through a metal pipe, but unevenly, staggering in its frequency.

The end of the steps met Roxas sooner than he thought that they would, and his boot met the stone floor with a jarring smack, one that almost made Roxas stumble.

The room fell utterly silent. No more quiet clinking. No more hissing. Roxas held his breath. The clinking started again, and this time there was no doubt in Roxas' mind that the sound was from chains. There was something alive down here, chained up, dragging its chains across the floor. Again, the room fell silent, and with a great deal of hesitation, Roxas took a step.

The moment his foot hit the ground, a deafening roar filled the room, like the very air was being destroyed around him, and an orange light filled every corner of the room. Fire. The room had suddenly filled with fire. Roxas covered his face with his arms, trying to guard against the flames. For an instant, he thought he saw a face through the blazing ribbons that rose from the stone floor, but before he could get a good look, something, or someone, appeared in front of him to shield him from the fire.

"Go," said a deep voice, barely audible over the roar of the flames.

"Xemnas?"

"Did you not hear me? Go."

Roxas swallowed and turned around, fleeing the room of fire and climbing the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him. He wasn't sure whether he was fleeing the fire or his landlord. Both seemed terrifying at the moment.

Light from above led Roxas to the top step and he made his way out of the would-be study and into the great hall. It wasn't long before Xemnas followed, walking casually, flakes of ash falling from his face.

"Did I not tell you to refrain from entering that room?" asked the man, his gold eyes narrowed.

"Maybe I would have if you told me the truth!" snapped Roxas. He was terrified, yes, but the fury from being betrayed was still stronger. "Why did you lie to me about that? What was that? And why the hell are you keeping it chained up in your basement?"

Xemnas looked down his nose at Roxas. "Come with me to the library." Without sparing the boy a second look, the olive-skinned man walked passed by. "We have much to discuss."


	5. Silent as the Earth

**Chapter 5**

_Silent as the Earth_

For the previous four weeks, Roxas had been quiet around Xemnas. Contained. Obedient. Not that day.

"I want answers," he growled, his hands curled into fists. "I'm waiting."

Xemnas looked down at Roxas, and it seemed to the boy that his golden eyes suddenly seemed so much more sinister, but it wasn't enough to make him back down.

"What you saw in the basement," began Xemnas, his speech agonizingly slow, "was a monster."

"A monster?" echoed Roxas, dubious. Having learned for certain that Xemnas was capable of untruth, it was difficult to swallow something as unrealistic as a monster in the basement. That was the sort of story his mother might have told him when he was five.

"Yes," said Xemnas. "An inhuman being. It is an immortal, wild, and senseless creature. Its only instinct is to burn anything and anyone it might encounter, to consume the world in its fire. It was my wish that you never encounter it, thus I did my best to keep its existence unknown. I might have succeeded, had you obeyed the few orders I gave to you."

"Then why not just tell me?" demanded Roxas. "If you did, I wouldn't have gotten so, you know, curious."

"Would you have believed my words?" asked Xemnas. "Would you have not sought it out with purpose to ascertain the creature's existence with your own eyes?"

"I..." Roxas averted his eyes, his hands still clenched tight. He wasn't sure what he would have done. "Maybe, but at least I'd go in there knowing what I was up against. I wouldn't have gone down there thinking about nothing but how mad I was that you lied to me."

"I have my doubts," said Xemnas. "Regardless, even if that were true, the existence of this creature is something that should remain unknown. For hundreds of years, my family has guarded this beast, keeping it as far from the innocent as possible. Not only the creature itself, but the rumors of its existence." The man gazed down at the table in front of him, his fingers interlaced atop it. "Of course, monsters are difficult to contain. Thus, the creature has escaped on occasion, and when it does, it runs amok, setting the forest ablaze, and sending its flames to the heavens. Surely you must have noticed. Even from your village, the fire is so great that it should have been visible."

"Wait..." Roxas shook his head. "The pillars of fire? They come from that thing?" All of the rumors that people passed in his village of the wrath of gods, of omens of death, and all this time, it was a creature locked away in a wealthy hermit's basement? Roxas was beginning to believe what Xemnas was telling him. He'd seen the fire with his own eyes. Even now, there was a superficial burn on his hands from when he'd attempted to shield his face, a sting that jolted through his knuckles when he moved his fingers. The fire had easily filled the whole room. Was it impossible to imagine it stretching up into the sky?

"Indeed." Xemnas nodded sagely. "The fire does serve a purpose. It seems to frighten those who see it just enough to drive them far away from its source. Of course, should the villagers know the true reason behind the flames, they would underestimate the strength of the beast and doubtless attempt to end its reign of terror by ending its life, and I fear the massacre effected by their attempt. One cannot change the past or erase one's memories, therefore there is nothing that can be done for your experience this afternoon." The man's eyes narrowed darkly. "However, for the sake of your own safety, you are not to approach the basement a second time. Is that clear?"

Roxas clenched his teeth. Though he had started to believe Xemnas, he doubted the order for him to stay away from the basement from then on had anything to do with his safety. To him, it sounded like more secrets.

"Crystal," he hissed before turning around and walking toward the library door. He slammed it behind him as he reentered the great hall. He needed to hear Xion's side of the story. Immediately.

* * *

When Xion entered Roxas' room that night, as she always did, Roxas rounded on her immediately. He would regret his behaviour later, but in that moment, he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. He needed to know.

"I went," he snapped. "And I almost got turned into a pile of ash. What gives, Xion?"

"Axel attacked you?" asked Xion, her eyes widening. "That doesn't sound like him at all. He's so gentle. He would never-"

"Axel?" demanded Roxas. "That was Axel? You're friends with a monster?"

"Don't call him that!" snapped Xion. Roxas immediately reeled himself in. He'd never seen her so angry. For that matter, he'd never seen her angry. "He's not a monster!"

Roxas hesitated, his own frustration subdued for the moment thanks to Xion's unexpected outburst. "Xemnas said-"

"How can you still believe him?" asked Xion, desperation in her eyes. "After everything?"

Roxas' own eyes averted for a split second. It was difficult to meet such an emotional gaze. "Well, he… I mean… The fire… That's not something people can do."

"So you believe in monsters that make fire, but not people?" asked Xion. "Is that really more likely, Roxas? Please. Just think about it. Just for a second."

Roxas stared at Xion's intent expression for a long, slow moment before doing what he suggested. He closed his eyes and tried to block everything out so that he could concentrate. He thought about everything Xemnas had said, that the being kept below the house was a monster that his family had guarded for generations. The great fires had been around for centuries, and if it was indeed Axel that had created those fires, and Roxas was inclined to at least believe that much, as it made more sense than any of the theories back home, that was too long for any normal person to live. Of course, then again, normal people couldn't pull fire out of thin air. If Roxas was accepting the possibility that what had been down there was indeed human, he couldn't compare who or what the being in the basement was to "normal people."

And then he remembered. That hissing sound… Suddenly, Roxas realized why it had seemed so familiar. It wasn't a hiss like what he'd expect from a cat or a snake. It was the kind he'd heard from Sora almost nightly just before Roxas left, when he was feverish and spent every night shaking regardless of how many blankets he wrapped around himself. That was the sound of someone shivering.

Could monsters shiver?

Roxas opened his eyes slowly. "...I believe you," he said quietly, connecting his gaze with Xion's. "I mean, I think I do. I've...never heard of animals shivering, so I guess monsters would be the same way. But… But that would mean…" Roxas shook his head. "I heard chains down there. That… That would mean your friend's chained up in that dark basement by himself."

Xion wrapped her arms around herself. "That's right," she said quietly. "I… I hate Xemnas. I hate everything he's done to Axel. I told you, Roxas: He's not a good person."

"But why?" asked Roxas. "Why is he keeping a person down there?"

"I…" Xion closed her eyes. Her hold on her torso tightened. "I don't think I should be the one to tell you that."

Roxas watched Xion. She seemed so sad, and that sadness was contagious. To Roxas, it felt like his heart was freezing in his chest, and with every second that passed, it felt like that ice was building up inside of him, squeezing. Just when it felt like his heart was going to burst, Roxas reached for his bedroom door.

"Fine. If you can't tell me, I'll ask Axel."

"Wait!" Xion reached for Roxas' free hand and squeezed it in both of her own. "You already got in trouble with Xemnas once, right?"

"I'm not going to stay in the dark about something this important," countered Roxas. "I'm going to find out what's going on, and then I'm going to put a stop to it. I don't care what Xemnas does to me. I'll help you and Axel both, even if it kills me."

Xion's eyes widened, but her hands stayed where they were, gripping onto Roxas'. A slow, small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and her grip slackened. "Well… Okay, but you can't help us if you get caught." She released Roxas' hand altogether and unzipped her coat, revealing a thin, black shirt, a pair of ebony trousers, and boots that reached her knees. She folded her coat over her left arm and offered it to the boy in front of her. "Put your hood up. He'll just think it's me."

Roxas reached out and took the coat in his arms. A grateful smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he said softly. The boy quickly slipped the coat on over the clothes he was already wearing and covered his face with the hood as instructed. He looked down at himself and was immediately struck by a problem. "You can still tell it's me," said Roxas. "I'm not wearing gloves, and my shoes are the wrong color."

"Yeah, but you can only tell if you get a good look," explained Xion. "Just don't stick around long enough for Xemnas to see the details."

Roxas nodded once and pulled Xion's body into his arms. Again, he noticed how cold she was, but it wasn't the time to make such comments. There were more important things to be said. "Thank you, Xion. You're the best friend I could ever ask for."

Xion pulled away, a smile on her face. "I don't know," she said softly. "You haven't met Axel yet."

Roxas squeezed the girl's hands one last time and said, "I'm looking forward to it." With that, he turned around and left the room. From that point on, he was a man with a mission.

* * *

The forest green door was just as intimidating as it had been mere hours before, if not moreso, but this time, Roxas didn't waste any time with a staring contest. He didn't have any time to waste. He pushed through, closing the door behind himself, and, for the second time that day, Roxas descended the dark staircase. He took every step with care this time, making sure that he didn't make the same mistake that he had before. He also made a point of counting the steps for the sake of future visits.

Twenty-six, twenty-seven... The same sounds from before reached Roxas' ears, but this time, in knowing what they were, they broke his heart. That shivering… It was so cold in the basement. The chill even slithered up Roxas' sleeves and into Xion's coat, making the hairs on his arms stand on end. The thought of staying in this cold room every winter for as long as the pillars of fire had been around… Roxas' stomach turned at the thought.

Twenty-eight, twenty-nine... The boy's steps slowed. He knew he was approaching the bottom. Thirty, thirty-o- No, exactly thirty. Roxas followed the sounds of the shivering, walking across the level, stone floor, but when the sounds stopped, so did he.

Again, the room was filled with firelight, but this time the glow was faint, spreading from a tiny flame on the far side of the room. Roxas would have had to have been blind to miss that light in a room so dark. The flame floated mere centimeters above a bare hand. Roxas saw a wrist connected, one that seemed thin and bony, almost unhealthily so, but anything beyond that point was covered with a black leather sleeve. Roxas' gaze followed that sleeve to a set of broad shoulders, and just above them, a face that Roxas would never have called monstrous.

The first thing he noticed was the man's hair. Maybe it was a trick of the light-and the dim, flickering light from the flame wasn't exactly the best, so Roxas didn't doubt it-but the man's hair seemed to be red. Not ginger, but a brilliant crimson that flared outward behind him as if it belonged to a wary cat. The second thing Roxas noticed was the markings on his face. Two inverted tear-drop shapes decorated the man's face, just beneath either eye. Roxas had never seen anything like that on any person he'd ever met. Still it took much more than a couple of dark shapes for a person to be called a monster. Regardless, if there was any doubt in Axel's humanity by this point, it was knocked out by the next feature that caught Roxas' attention.

Axel's eyes were sharp, narrow, and exotic. The outer corners of his eyes tilted upward with a twist that was almost feminine, but instead left Axel with an air of charm. The brilliant emerald shade Roxas recognized even through the orange light from the flames perfectly complemented his fiery hair, and the color wasn't the only contrast. Where Axel's hair was sharp and stiff like a battalion of blood-stained blades, his eyes were soft, and gentle. Roxas could immediately see what Xion meant. In that softness, Roxas caught a hint of melancholy, though there was no mistaking the fire deep down. There was definitely a spark in those eyes that seemed to ignite something in Roxas' chest, crackling down his arms and across his knuckles like a sort of positive panic.

"You're not Xion," said the man, his voice warm and smooth like freshly brewed tea. Axel climbed to his feet, the flame in his hand rising with him. "You have five seconds to convince me I can trust you. Four-"

"I'm a friend of Xion's!" Roxas said hastily, tugging his hood down quickly to make himself seem less threatening. He didn't know what Axel planned to do with the fire that was swirling in his hand, and he had no desire to find out.

"Xion doesn't make friends," said Axel. "Three-"

"What about you?" asked Roxas, frantically searching for anything that would, if nothing else, buy him time. "You're Xion's friend, aren't you?"

"Xion and I met a long time ago," explained Axel. "She's not the same person she used to be. Two..."

Roxas began to desperately search the room with his eyes, as if it had the answer he was looking for.

"One..."

At the last second, Roxas unzipped his coat and reached into the pocket at his belt, grabbed something that cut into his fingers when he gripped it, and yanked it free of the leather pouch. He stretched his hand out and uncurled his fingers, revealing a long, thin seashell. At its tip, it was pink, but that color faded to a pale white the closer it got to the base.

This, thankfully, seemed to catch Axel's attention. He narrowed his eyes, and the flame in his hand shrank back to its original size. "Give it here, kid."

Resisting the urge to grumble at being called a "kid," Roxas took a few steps forward, his hand still open. Once he had grown close enough, Axel snatched the shell from his palm and inspected it under his flame.

"This is a Thalassa shell," he said quietly. "They only come from Destiny Islands. Where did you get this?"

"Xion gave it to me," explained Roxas. "That was about a month ago. Back when we first met."

"She only has a few of these," said Axel. "Vexen gave them to her a long, long time ago. She wouldn't give them away to just anyone."

"I'm not just anyone," said Roxas. "I'm her friend. I already told you that."

Axel looked Roxas dead in the eyes. "You could have stolen it," he accused.

"Why would I steal a seashell?" asked Roxas. "And even if I did, how would I know it was important if I wasn't friends with Xion."

"Xemnas could have told you," replied Axel, his voice low.

"Don't group me up with him," growled Roxas. "He's a liar. He told me you were a monster."

Axel smirked and returned the shell to Roxas' hand, dropping it from a few inches above. "There's no denying he's a liar, but 'monster's' true enough."

"You're friends with Xion." Roxas gripped the shell protectively in his hand, his gaze locking onto Axel's. "There's no way you could be a monster."

"You think so, huh?" asked Axel. "Get her to take her gloves off one of these days. Then you'll see the truth for yourself."

Roxas narrowed his eyes and slipped the shell back into his pocket before zipping his coat up. "She still likes you, so if you burned her or something, it had to have been an accident, right?" The boy looked down at his own hands. Even in the dim light, he could see the faint pink splotches where Axel's flames had licked his fingers. "Accidents don't make you a monster."

When Roxas lifted his head again, he saw what seemed to be regret in Axel's eyes.

"I did that to you, right?" he asked. "Look, Kid-"

"You don't have to apologize," said Roxas, an encouraging smile on his face. "But if you told me why you did it, I'd listen."

Axel sighed and took a step back to lean against the cold, stone wall. He crossed his arms, moving the fire in his hand to a tiny flame on the end of his index finger, as if it were the wick of a candle. "Xemnas only comes down here for two reasons. He only needs fire from me every few months, so I knew that wasn't it."

Roxas wanted to ask what the other reason would have been, but thought better of it. They only just met, and the last thing Roxas wanted was to push Axel away. "How did you know I wasn't Xion?"

"You don't wear heels," replied Axel, one finger pointing to his temple. "Xion clicks."

Roxas looked down at his feet and frowned. That could mean trouble if Xemnas had the same attention to detail that Axel did.

"So, why are you here, Kid?" asked the crimson-haired man, his arms returning to his chest. "You got a death wish or something?"

"My name is Roxas," the boy countered, annoyed. "And I'm here because I want to help."

"Help?" Axel raised one thin eyebrow. "Are you serious? You look like you can barely help yourself. Anyway, that wasn't what I was asking." His arms dropped down to either side, and Roxas caught him hiding a shudder. "Do yourself a favor, Kid. Sorry-" Axel was quick to amend, catching the younger boy's glare. "'Roxas.' Just get out while you still can. You're not the first person Xemnas decided to 'help,' and believe me when I say that none of those stories had happy endings."

"I don't care," insisted Roxas. "I'm not leaving without Xion or you."

Axel laughed shortly. "What are you, some kind of hero?"

Again, the man's arms quivered, and Roxas couldn't take it anymore. That shaking reminded him too much of Sora. "How long have you been cold?" he asked.

Axel narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"I'm asking you when was the last time you were warm."

Again, Axel laughed. "It's been a while."

Roxas took a few steps forward, and Axel backed himself into a corner, his chains scraping across the stone floor. The fire in his hand disappeared, and the room became pitch black. "What're you-"

"I'm Xion's friend, remember?" asked Roxas through the darkness. "I won't hurt you. Just trust me." Once he thought he was close enough, the boy reached out for Axel's arms. He felt the man flinch under his touch. "Don't worry," whispered Roxas, the way he might to a frightened child. His hands slid down Axel's arms until he reached the ends of his sleeves, let his fingers trace over the manacles on Axel's wrists, and grasped the man's hands. It was a strange sensation for Roxas, holding Axel's hands in his own. Even if not for the fact that the only hands Roxas had touched in the past month were Xion's, which were always covered in gloves, the temperature of Axel's hands wasn't quite what Roxas had been expecting. Though Axel's fingertips were ice cold, his palms were almost hot enough to burn.

"Your hands are warm." Roxas wasn't sure why he looked up at the sound of Axel's voice; It wasn't as if he could see the person speaking to him.

"I was going to say the same thing," said Roxas. "Are you sure I'm not making you colder? I mean, that's sort of the opposite of what I want to do, so..."

"Nah," said Axel, and Roxas could almost hear his smirk. "I give off too much heat. Part of the fire gig, you know? You're sort of...helping me keep some of it."

"Oh," said Roxas quietly. "Why don't you warm yourself up with your fire?"

Axel chuckled. "That's like asking why you don't keep your house warm by moving the fireplace outside. It doesn't just come out of nowhere, you know."

Roxas frowned invisibly in the darkness. "So you're really just this cold all the time?"

"It's not bad in the summer," replied Axel. "It's still kind of cold, though, bein' underground and all."

Roxas' hands tightened around Axel's. "That's why I want to help you," he said quietly. "If you could just let me try..."

"What're you gonna do?" asked Axel.

Roxas slid his hands toward Axel's wrists. "Well, for starters..."

Before Roxas could continue, one of Axel's hands slipped out of his own and clapped over his mouth. At first, Roxas was startled, but that surprise turned to real fear when the reason behind Axel's reaction was revealed.

Footsteps. Soft ones. No heels.

Roxas felt Axel's chains hit his chest when the elder frantically pulled his hood up before he had a chance to protest.

"Get out of here," said Axel in a whisper above Roxas' left shoulder. "Just run past him. If you're fast enough, he'll just think you're Xion."

"But-" Roxas protested, just as quiet. Axel had only attacked him earlier because he thought Xemnas was going to do something terrible to him. If Xemnas was coming downstairs, that meant that what Axel feared was about to happen. Roxas couldn't just leave.

"You're not doing me any favors by staying," Axel growled quietly as if reading Roxas' thoughts. "Just get going!"

Roxas swallowed hard and pulled away. As much as he wanted to stay, Axel was right. If Xemnas found out that Roxas was there, that probably wouldn't end well for either of them, so, clenching his teeth, Roxas turned and ran up the stairs. His arm bumped against Xemnas' as he ran, but that didn't slow him down. He kept running until he finally escaped into the great hall.

Roxas' hood stayed up until he was safely inside his own bedroom again. By the time he pulled it down, tears were already rolling down his cheeks. He leaned back against his door and slid down, rubbing his face dry.

Xion was right. Axel might have been a little rough around the edges, but he was just as sweet and gentle as she'd said. Roxas didn't want to think about what Xemnas might have been doing to him. Even after only that brief meeting, the idea of Axel in any sort of pain was more than Roxas could bear.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** Dearest apologies, I seem to have accidentally uploaded the incorrect document previously. I'm sure none of you wanted to read the fourth chapter _twice_. But, as you see, things have been fixed now. Again, my apologies. Ech._


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